Scratching the Itch
by Saturnian Dreamer
Summary: Davenport fails to consider what she should have learned earlier: scratching an itch only makes matters worse. (An *interesting* episode tag to "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Court" that is definitely not Y7.)
1. Chapter 1

**Title** : Scratching the Itch

 **Rating** : M for sexual situations. Kiddos turn back now.

 **Category** : Het. Not-quite sex pollen trope

 **Pairings:** Davenport/Goddard

 **Notes** : No infringement intended. I don't own _Space Cases_ , but I miss it a lot. Sorry/not sorry; there's just something decidedly _not_ Y7 about Spung!Davenport and Spung!Goddard. This is an episode tag for "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Court" that took an...interesting turn. I'll be int he box of shame

* * *

 **Scratching the Itch**

 **Chapter 1  
**

Miss Davenport and Commander Goddard walked slowly through the corridors in an awkward silence. It was agreed that everyone needed time to recuperate after turning into Spung. Rosie had scanned the crew in the Med Lab and concluded that everyone was back to normal, as far as she could tell. But the stress of the transformation process left everyone feeling a little disoriented, especially the two adults, so they headed in the direction of their respective quarters for some rest.

Davenport unintentionally matched Goddard's strides as she walked alongside him. She didn't remember much of what transpired earlier, and her memory loss left her feeling anxious and eager to apologize for her actions. The students convinced her there was no real harm done and left it at that.

She glanced over at Goddard and suddenly felt her cheeks flush. Fractured, distorted memories from the day flashed through her mind. The only clear ones were those of Seth's Spung features and the way his eyes had silently beckoned her to acquiesce to the transformation and let go of all rational thought. No one had ever looked at her that way before.

Davenport swallowed the lump in her throat. Of course she'd been cooped up on the Christa for a while, so she rationalized it was only natural for her to feel frustrated even in the sexual sense of the term. What puzzled her was her sudden inability to shake such an intense physical need for another person, and a colleague at that! It was something she once considered undignified and inappropriate that now seemed to excite her.

T.J.'s lips curved into a sultry smile, and Goddard caught her leering. He locked eyes with her, and they stopped walking.

Goddard's head ached. He knew that look, but he never dreamed he'd see it on T.J. Davenport's face. Her eyes were darkened, her pupils blown, and she was daring him to surrender to his primal urges. Sure, there were probably plenty of women who would have loved to run away with him for seven years. He didn't think Davenport would be one of them, until now. And now Goddard knew he was in big trouble.

"Something is different." T.J.'s voice was breathy and low. "Do you feel it?"

Seth's palms were sweaty, and his entire body ached in the best possible way. "Yes," he rasped. "Something's definitely different."

She stepped closer. "Is this the sort of problem that requires a command decision?"

He gulped. "Perhaps."

"Well then," T.J. began, her face inches from his, "what _is_ your command decision, hmm?"

Tension hummed like static, tingling their skin as it drew them together. Seth ignored the ship's discordant response as he backed T.J. into the wall and pinned her hands over her head. The combination of his searing kiss and the impact against the wall left her gasping into his mouth. She actually seemed to enjoy being submissive for the time being. Her nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists, only asserting herself by hiking her leg up around his waist to pull him closer.

He disentangled himself and staggered backward, trying to catch his breath as he stared at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, T.J. I don't know what came over me," he apologized, his voice still husky.

Davenport's whole body quivered. "I-it's quite alright," she stammered, staring down at the floor. Her head was swimming. She didn't know why this was happening, but she knew she liked it. And she certainly knew she wouldn't be able to control herself if she looked up at him again.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine." Davenport could feel Goddard's genuine concern as he approached her again. Overpowering all other emotion, however, was an undeniable want—a need—as his body heat mingled with hers.

 _Don't look up,_ Davenport told herself. _Don't look up. Don't look. Don't…_

She couldn't help it; she met his eyes. "Seth?"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

She swayed as a sudden wave of vertigo hit her, and she could feel his heart thudding in time with hers through the many layers of cotton and wool as she leaned heavily against him. The dizziness subsided, and T.J. slowly lifted her head to look up at Seth again. She suddenly felt more confident than ever before. Her energy and clarity seemed to be restored. "I'm fine. More than fine, actually."

Davenport's index finger curled around the top of Goddard's jacket, behind the zipper, and she felt the metal teeth buzz around her skin as she dragged her hand down his torso. Her hands found their way back to his chest, creeping under the pesky garment and moving over his shoulders and down his arms until his jacket fell to the floor. He remained still as she pressed herself against him and drew a figure eight pattern on his chest with her long dainty fingers.

He stiffened under her touch and shut his eyes, hoping that her hypnotizing hold on him would disappear, but to no avail. "We should get some rest."

"I know you're not the slightest bit tired." She cupped his face in her hands and stared into the blue depths of his eyes. "What you need first is some physical activity to make you sleepy, yes?"

He gulped again. "I think we should go back to the med lab for another exa—" His voice caught in his throat as she nipped at his earlobe. He wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

T.J. let out a low condescending laugh. "Don't be silly. It's obvious what's going on here," she said, raking her hands through his hair. She paused to play with the small patches of grey near his temples and gave him a playful pout. "Or are you growing senile in your old age?"

She grunted as she shoved him against the far wall, surprising him with her newfound strength. In two strides she cleared the space between them once more.

"What you _really_ want was made quite clear only moments ago. I suppose the real question is whether or not you have the power to take it. Try, Seth. _Take me_ ," she barked, her eyes flaring. "Or aren't you man enough? Maybe you don't deserve to have me."

He narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth in an attempt to keep his anger at bay. The adrenaline rush he felt at that moment was unlike any other. He wanted to dominate her in the most satisfying way possible. He heard himself roar as he gripped T.J.'s forearms and flipped her around to pin her against the wall again.

T.J. smirked. "Is that your only move?" Her gaze wandered to the doorway next to them: the entrance to her quarters. "My, my. How fortunate. Let us test our restored stamina, shall we?" She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "How long do you suppose it will take for you to make me scream and faint, hmm?"

That was Seth's breaking point, when he lost all control. He struck the access crystal and didn't care when he heard it crack under the heel of his hand. When the door opened, T.J. pulled him down to her, and their lips met in another scorching kiss. As he stalked forward, she shuffled back, step for step in a blind tango until the back of her legs met the mattress and he pushed her down onto the bed.

They both fought to be on top, taking turns pinning each other down. She was all over him, tugging his belt, clawing at his shirt, and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she kissed him hungrily. They were both manic: a frenzy of lust trying to consume each other in every imaginable way as they shed their clothing until there were no more barriers between them.

She gasped when he finally entered her in one swift stroke. She dug her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. They made no attempt to keep quiet, and she encouraged him to take her harder and faster with her cries of pleasure. She gasped his name repeatedly louder and louder until she screamed it, her eyes snapping shut when she shuddered around him. That was all it took to send him over the edge, and it was music to her ears when he groaned her name before collapsing beside her.

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, almost blankly, his breathing ragged. Rather than fight the sleep threatening to overtake her, she surrendered to it thoroughly satisfied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Scratching the Itch**

 **Chapter 2**

Davenport rolled over the next morning and felt her entire body flush when she noticed Goddard staring at her. She accidentally elbowed him in the chest as she panicked and drew the covers tightly around herself, scooting to the far side of the bed.

The Commander grunted, sat up, and looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow. T.J. held her breath, expecting a "Good morning" at best or an "Oh God" at worst. Instead, he blinked at her and said, "Your neck."

She grimaced and rubbed the spot in question where she was certain he had given her a rather large hickey, and then gasped when she saw the damage she had done to him. "Goodness! Your shoulders!"

Goddard slipped out of bed and began redressing himself. He walked over to Davenport's vanity before putting on his shirt and craned his neck to look in the mirror, finding even more scratches on his back. "Jeez." A sigh and then, "How, uh, do you want to handle this?" He hesitated before adding, "What's your command decision?" in a tone that was more unsure than mocking.

Davenport forced herself to sit up, clutching the sheets to her chest. She mentally chided herself for failing to consider what she should have learned before: scratching an itch only makes matters worse.

"I assume our, um, rather uncharacteristic behavior was somehow caused by the changes in our body chemistry earlier," she offered. "Nothing more."

Goddard shook his head. "But I remember it this time."

She hesitated before revealing, "So do I."

Davenport vividly remembered every last detail of her _experience_ with Goddard. She remembered feeling power course through her veins as she and the Commander battled for dominance. She knew there were even more accurate words to describe what they had done; they were all undignified terminologies that made her cringe. But T.J. had wanted it. Oh God, had she wanted it! She supposed whatever lingered from the transformation process hadn't taken over completely the night before...if it had any bearing on their behavior at all.

She gulped as she realized that her actions, while perhaps influenced somewhat by the Lister Effect, had still been well within her control.

Instead of voicing her concerns over the implications, she continued by trying to avoid them, stating, "We were completely taken over by another dimension's natural and physical laws. I imagine it may take some time to recover."

Goddard eyed her skeptically. "So you're trying to say that what happened was like some sort of side-effect?"

"I-it is very possible," Davenport stammered.

"Possible," Goddard echoed, flatly.

"Yes." She took a deep breath before adding, "I'd like to think you and I are, um, back to normal, as it were."

Goddard scrubbed his hands down his face. He wasn't sure whom Davenport was trying to convince, or of what for that matter. Space hated subtext. But her explanation was either her version of "no strings attached" or "this was a mistake." For now, he'd allow her to cling to the illusion she'd constructed if that was what she needed to do. He wasn't going to push the issue and risk pushing her away completely, so he outwardly accepted her reasoning with a nod.

"Okay."

He finished redressing himself as she wrapped her sheets around her and padded over to the closet to don her dressing gown. When he was certain she was decent, he turned back to face her again.

"You might want to do some damage control and put some makeup on the...uh…on your…" Goddard stared at her in a haze of recollection and cleared his throat. "There's the one spot on your neck, for sure."

"Oh God." Davenport cringed in embarrassment as she remembered the other places on her body he'd explored and probably left his mark. Thank goodness her uniform could easily conceal the rest of them.

"So I guess I should, uh...I should go, right? You want me to leave, so I'll go." He touched the access crystal to exit, but the door jammed halfway open. "Oh. Right. I guess I broke that," he mumbled, embarrassed.

Davenport bit her lip as she watched Goddard manually slide the panels and swear at the ship. "It's quite all right. I'm sure Thelma can fix it," she offered.

"No. No, and that's not the point," Seth realized through a sigh. He took a tentative step toward T.J., the door forgotten. He wanted to move even closer but didn't care to push his luck. His voice was gentle and his eyes sincere when he said, "Look, I want to fix this. Everything. Whatever it takes. I mean that." Subtext be damned.

Davenport felt her cheeks turn pink. "Thank you. Truly. Although, in my opinion, nothing else needs repaired aside from the door to my quarters."

"Are you sure, T.J.?"

The way he'd said her name hours before echoed in her mind. "Oh goodness," she whispered, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.

"I mean, Miss Davenport," he quickly corrected himself. "I mean I'm really, really sorry if—"

"Please don't." She lowered her head, unable to look him in the eyes any longer. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Please don't apologize."

"I feel like I do, and I should. Last night I thought you wanted…" he paused. "Know that I would never take advantage—"

"I know that. You were trying to be a gentleman—"

"Up until I stopped trying and—"

"No, I should be the one apologizing," she insisted, giving Goddard pause. "I am well aware of the way I behaved. Seth, I was the one who propositioned you. The way I felt... I think now I want..." She looked defeated as she shook her head and abandoned any train of thought leading to feelings and attachments; it would never work out. "I'm so sorry, Seth."

T.J. had never slept with anyone with whom she wasn't in a committed romantic relationship, and now she was a mess of emotion coming down from an adrenaline and endorphin high. She suspected the Commander had his share of casual partners in the past. If rumors were to be believed, he'd been a bit of a lothario. But the way he looked at her now with such concern made her wonder if there could be something else between them. Something meaningful.

"You're sorry for what, exactly?" he asked, softly. "What is it you want?"

T.J. wasn't one for flings, so how had they gotten here? How was it that Seth was now sharing an awkward morning-after with James Davenport's daughter?

"Oh God. Davenport's daughter," he realized. "That's it. I'm a dead man."

T.J.'s jaw dropped and she couldn't help but laugh at this version of a stupefied and awkward Commander Seth Goddard.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" he realized, turning a nice shade of red that would rival Rosie's complexion.

"I'm afraid so."

"Fantastic. Just do me a favor and pretend I didn't."

"You are a true gentleman, Seth," she said sweetly. "And I seem to have surprised even myself in the heat of the moment; I neglected to act like a proper lady."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Teej, you were... I mean... Jeez, how am I supposed to compliment you in this situation and still sound like a gentleman?"

T.J. buried her face in her hands to hide her shock and embarrassment, muffling another "Oh goodness."

Seth smirked and rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to playfully tease her a bit more. "Confidence is...very attractive on you."

When her cheeks stopped burning, she looked up at him again. "I didn't think that you'd ever want something like this with me."

"And I never thought you would, with me."

T.J. worried her lip. "Do you still...?"

"If I did, I don't think we could chalk this up to some sort of side-effect, do you?"

Her breath hitched. But no, she shouldn't make assumptions. "That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"I don't know what answer you want."

She closed her eyes and braced herself. "The truthful one, please."

"What happened was...surprising," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but definitely not unwelcome. I don't regret what we've done, and I hope you don't either. But if you do—if you want to go back to how things were, pretend this didn't happen, or chalk it up to a side effect—I'll try. First and foremost, I want to do right by you. It's your command decision. You give the order, and I'll follow it."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about the two of us together. By that admission alone, I don't think I can completely blame slipping into a parallel universe for my behavior. If at all."

Goddard nodded. "Seems like sound logic."

"So if I were to ask... So does that mean...?" She cleared her throat. "Would you be open to reconvening later so we can further explore this hypothesis?"

Seth gave her an impish grin. "I think the results are pretty conclusive now, but I definitely wouldn't object."

"Best to be thorough," she added, cheekily.

He chuckled and shook his head at her before his gaze wandered to the timepiece on her bedside table. "I'd better go. I'll see you at breakfast."

"Breakfast. Yes. Of course."

"Yeah. Do you, uh, want anything special to eat? I know the food wheel is kind of hit-and-miss—mostly miss—but I'll see if I can get you something specific. Something edible at the very least."

"Thank you. That would be lovely. Waffles, if at all possible. Waffles and strawberries are my favorite."

"Noted. I'll try my best. And you're sure about later? And before? And now?" Seth asked lamely. "Space hates ambiguity."

She gave him a soft smile that finally reached her eyes. "Yes, Seth. I would very much like to continue exploring this...pleasing development in our relationship."

Seth nodded, finally convinced. "Good. Because, in case I wasn't clear earlier, I would too."

"I'm glad."

He turned toward the doors and they opened on their own accord.

"What the—?"

Maybe the ship really was out to get them. Or maybe it was just giving them a nudge in the right direction.

He sighed. "Yeah, that seems about right."

T.J. shook her head and chuckled in disbelief, staring up at the ceiling. "Doesn't it just?"

Seth smiled at her fondly. "See you at breakfast, T.J."

Davenport let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as he left the room. In another hour they would join the students in the galley like any other morning. Certainly, her experience with Seth was not what she would call classically romantic by any stretch of the imagination. But they could change that next time.

Next time.

"My." Still staring at the door, T.J. allowed her mind to wander. She smiled and shook her head, suddenly flustered. "Command decisions, indeed."


End file.
